I still remember that day—I was in Class 6. The sky was cloudy, and a light drizzle had made the school ground smell of wet mud. Our class teacher, Mrs. Lata, had just entered with a big smile and announced, “This year, our class will perform a play on Lord Krishna’s life for Janmashtami!” All of us became so excited. Hands shot up for roles—Radha, Sudama, Balram—and then, the most special one, Krishna. I don’t know what gave me the courage that day, but I slowly raised my hand and said, “Ma’am, can I be Krishna?” Some of my classmates looked at me in silence… and then, they started laughing. “You? Krishna?” “Arey, Krishna was handsome…” “Tui toh kalo!” “Krishna looks divine, not like you!” Their words cut deeper than I could understand at that age. I stood there, awkward and frozen, pretending like it didn’t affect me. But my heart was shaking. And then, our teacher smiled and said, “Let’s give the Krishna role to Arnav, he’s perfect for it.” Arnav was tall, with a sharp nose and fair...
After moving to Bangalore, I found myself in a new city, surrounded by strangers and unfamiliar streets. In search of stability and a routine, I joined FZ Fitness Club in Electronic City—thanks to a suggestion from my friend, Biki. Initially, it was just the two of us trying to stick to our workouts. But gradually, the gym turned into something much more than a place for lifting weights—it became a second home filled with friendships I never expected. There was Dharma, the Kannada coach with a serious passion for fitness. Anuraj, the energetic Goan trainer. Nishat, the arm-wrestling enthusiast from Karnataka. And Shravan, the silent but focused Malayali guy who always trained with quiet intensity. Slowly, everyone became part of my circle. But among them all, one person left a mark that will last a lifetime—Ruben Lamadey, we used to call him as Darjeeling Da. He was a Gorkha, proud and strong—not just physically, but in spirit. With a solid build, a heartwarming smile, and the discipli...